


My Flower, My Lavender

by Louloo134



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bathing/Washing, Battle, Canon Divergent, Comforting, Dedue's doing his best, F/M, Flowers, Gods of Duscur, Gore, Hair Washing, Harm, Magic, Mercedes is an angel, Post canon, Protective Anger, Romance, Sappy, Scars, Size Difference, Soldiers, Strength difference, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, fashion - Freeform, praying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louloo134/pseuds/Louloo134
Summary: A year after the end of the war, Dedue finds himself more and more invested in his loving girlfriend.But it seems that one year is a year too late. When Mercedes is arranged to be wed off to Lorenz, can he really find a way to keep himself by her side?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	1. Boots

**Author's Note:**

> This idea hit me like a brick a few days ago. Imagine that one scene in Shrek where he runs in and yells 'I object!' at the wrong time. That's the energy my brain had writing this. But I hope you guys enjoy it! There's not enough Merci/Dedue stuff out there to satisfy me.

The march of a dozen men’s feet echoed along the path as it turned from wood to stone. The war had been over for about a year now, but there were still several bandit groups that needed erasing. King Dimitri insisted on handling these matters himself. After all, he felt responsible for them. As always, Dedue had gone along. But the march to the territory of House Ordelia had taken a little over a month, and he longed to be home. Not because his room was there, or his plants. No, he’d placed them in someone’s care, and it was the thought of greeting that someone once more that filled his head.

The Archbishop and Queen, Her Majesty Byleth, looked over to the vassal with a soft bit of a smile. Yes, she could read him like a book. Stifling a warm blush, Dedue rose his head and did his best to keep pace with the others. It was only a day more to the castle. Surely he could wait a day more.

Dinner that night fell squarely upon his shoulders. While the other soldier’s focused on setting up their encampment, he set to preparing a fire and food. Thankfully, with as many skilled fighters and hunters as they had, meat wasn’t an issue. Though he’d see to it that everyone got more vegetables into their diet upon their arrival home. Home. Where she was waiting. Oh, he wanted to hold her close, to make her favorite desserts and brush her hair, to pamper her gently and show how much he missed her, rather than merely say it. One day more- “Dedue, is everything alright?”

The vassal’s head snapped up. He’d already prepared and dished out food, but had been sitting and just staring at his own bowl without eating. A mannerism that had Dimitri rather worried. “Yes, your Majesty. I am fine.” Shaking off his stupor, Dedue set to eating his own dinner. It would hardly do to falter now.

Upon finishing, Dedue cleaned out his bowl with a scrap of cloth before tucking it into his bag. While once, he would’ve shared His Majesty’s tent, he now found himself sleeping alone at night. The king was a newlywed man, and Dedue had no place in his home anymore. That fact would’ve torn him apart once. Now, he felt something. . . almost like relief. The knowledge that he could support Dimitri, and still follow his own path.

Dedue had no problem setting up his tent, taking off his upper body armor before lying down. The sooner he fell asleep, the faster time would pass. The sooner he could satisfy this aching in his chest and arms, the ache to hold someone close. Even if only for a moment, that would be enough.

Focusing on controlling his breathing, Dedue slowly managed to slip into the wonderful expanse of sleep. As usual, it was dreamless. Always dreamless for the stoic man. Or, perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t dream, but that he didn’t remember them upon waking. Surely he dreamt of something. There wasn’t any other possible explanation for the way his heart thrummed in his chest as he sat up the next morning.

Running a hand through his loose hair, Dedue pulled it down into the same neat ponytail as always. A month on the road, only able to bathe when they stopped at the river. . . He’d have to wait to see her. She deserved to have him at his best, a clean, well-dressed and loving man. Not a longing forest creature that just came back from battle.

Sliding into his armor, Dedue ensured that the plating was lined up right before strapping it all into place. He’d make breakfast for the soldiers before setting out. They’d arrive home, and he’d set to his room first. A clean change of clothes and a towel, and from there to the baths to wash up and tend his wounds. A shave wouldn’t be a bad idea either. After that. . . ah, he’d stop by the greenhouse! The plants needed to be checked on, and some flowers to go with his appearance wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

On the walk home, Dedue edited the plan. It couldn’t just be any clothes. Dimitri had ensured that he’d have plenty of clothes to choose from, even if the vassal primarily wore just a simple white top and black pants most of the time. But a button-up would serve him well, as well as a pair of slacks and a suit jacket. Oh, and a tie! Or was that going too far? He wasn’t taking her anywhere, merely saying hi. Unless, should he take her somewhere?

“Greetings, your Majesties! Nothing to report!” The monastery’s favorite gatekeeper, a young man named Alm, had come back to Fhiridad upon the end of the war. When asked why, he’d answered with a simple, ‘My life would be boring without you now!’ “Oh, but I do have something to report to you, Mr. Molinaro.”

Dedue’s footsteps paused as he turned to the small man. No news for the royals, but news for him? Quite interesting. “Yes sir, I was instructed to tell you,” Alm cleared his throat, looking up as he remembered the words. “That, ‘the peonies are doing well, and so are your flowers. And look up the stairs.’” Alm nodded his head quite firmly. He’d done his job.

Dedue’s brow furrowed a little as he listened. ‘Look up the stairs’? Well, the task was simple enough. Nodding, the vassal turned his attention up to the top of the staircase. The sight that met his eyes very nearly made his jaw drop. That. . . was not something he’d expected.

Beaming happily, Mercedes stood tall in a set of armor that she’d most likely made herself. Leather and thick, warm cloth were sewn together to form a sort of bodysuit, though the fur around the shoulders clearly had the air of a gremory about it. High boots came up to her thighs, the entire ensemble composed only of varying shades of cream and brown. Obviously quite proud of herself, the woman began to make her way down the stairs.

Dedue’s eyes looked over the outfit, the unconscious saunter that Mercedes always carried in her hips and her ever-present gentle smile. It kept the vassal rooted to the spot. Was she trying to be seductive, or was his own mind simply running wild with him after a month apart from her?

Mercedes’ smile slipped a bit at the lack of a response from her loving partner. One moment of hesitation was all it took. Putting her foot down, she missed the next step entirely. Letting out a sound of surprise, the woman pitched forward and went almost fully headfirst down the stairs.

Dedue was moving from the moment her stance wobbled. Practically leaping up the stairs, Dedue took them four at a time. Long arms stretched forward, catching Mercedes' shoulders and pulling her into his chest. Perhaps she should review how much heel she’d put on those boots. “Did you hurt anything?”

“. . . Maybe my ankle, but I’m certain I’ll be fine.” The thin woman couldn’t hide the way her voice quavered. Even having had been through a five-year war, a jumpscare still spooked her more than anything else. Heart thundering in her chest, she leaned quietly into Dedue’s hold. She just needed a moment to collect herself, then she’d be fine.

All of Dedue’s plans had just been hurled out the proverbial window. To leave, prepare himself, and come back would be vain and pompous. Gently picking the gremory up, Dedue carried them both inside. One of the other healers could check her ankle for her. “My apologies for not meeting you at the top. I was. . . stunned.” Yes, that was the right word.

“Ah.” Mercedes blushed softly, but leaned into Dedue’s hold. Even despite the cold armor, she felt better in his hold. Cherished and protected in a way that she hadn’t been since her brother had died. “I made it while you were gone. I hoped that I might be able to go along with you to the next battle.” Whenever Dimitri left to handle the bandits, Sylvain and Felix typically went along with him. As well as Ingrid, on occasion. Without something truly protective, Mercedes had opted to stay behind more often than not. But she was a powerful mage, and a powerful healer! With this armor, she could join them and heal her loved ones.

Leave it to Mercedes to catch him off guard. Dedue found his mind equally split between the luxury of her soft weight in his arms and the consideration in her words. She’d gone to the effort to make this, to buy the materials and spend the time, so she could go to battle alongside them. “Whatever money you spent on making that, I’ll compensate you for.”

“What?” Mercedes looked up, brows raised and pink lips forming a soft ‘O’ in a look of surprise. Compensate her for the outfit? But it was her outfit! Then again, she’d often watched Sylvain and Felix exchange money back and forth. . . and it was normal for couples to buy gifts for their partners. Was Dedue trying to make this outfit a gift? Somehow, that didn’t seem right. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His answer was calm and without hesitation. Shouldering his way into the infirmary, he eased Mercedes down onto one of the cots. Even with the aching in his arms now set at ease, he still continued to hold her hand. A selfish gesture, perhaps, but one that he indulged himself in. Though he kept his gaze locked on her face, to see if she was feeling any discomfort at the gesture.

Mercedes let out a sharp gasp of pain, and Dedue immediately dropped his hand. Red welts from his armor and the amount of force he used were already blooming across her pale skin. A sickening feeling of horror curled in Dedue’s gut as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had harmed. . . Mercedes. Mercedes Von Martritz. A priestess and easily the purest person he’d ever met.

The healer came over to them and took a look, pushing Dedue back to work on Mercedes’ hand. Despite his impressive size and weight, the vassal allowed himself to be pushed around. What caused him to be so harsh? They’d been gone for a month, his only physical interactions with other people being on the battle. Even before then, he didn’t have much experience with physical contact. Was he truly so strong?

The poor man was so out of it, he didn’t notice Mercedes calling his name until she reached out and set her good hand on his arm. Dedue jumped a little at the contact before willing himself to calm down. She had done nothing wrong, and he had no right to treat her in a poor manner. “Dedue, is everything alright?”

Despite the ointment-soaked bandages wrapped around her hand and ankle, Mercedes was focusing on the rather frazzled man standing in the corner. As long as she’d known Dedue, she’d seen him get confused, disappointed, flustered, even angry on the rare occasion. But she’d never seen him look this. . . out-of-it. Gently taking ahold of his arm, she pulled him closer to her cot once more. “I’m not upset, you know.” That seemed like a good place to start.

Dedue remained silent for a few moments, though he allowed himself to be pulled along. The spaced-out look on his face dissipated as his features returned to their natural state, impassive and somewhat threatening. “Why?” Why would she not be upset with him? How could she not be upset with him? They’d been reunited for only a few minutes, and he’d managed to harm her!

Merci’s natural smile broadened, eyes closing as she beamed up to him. Whenever she truly smiled, she always had her eyes closed. “Because it was an accident!” Such a simple answer. If he’d hurt her on purpose, she’d be afraid or upset. But Dedue would never do that to her, and she could forgive him for an accident.

Tension slowly left the vassal’s frame as he set a scarred hand over Mercedes’, showing her the same tenderness and care as he would give one of his flowers. “I’ll make it up to you.” The words were a quiet promise as he picked Mercedes up once more. He’d start with tea.

Mercedes leaned into Dedue’s hold, relaxing softly with her tender smile. Far be it from her to argue with her loving boyfriend. Holding her boots to her chest with one hand, the other reached up to lightly touch the stubble that had grown over his jawline, chin, and upper lip. It added to that rugged look his scars and strong jaw gave him. She liked it, all things considered.

A soft blush rose up to Dedue’s cheeks as he gently leaned his head into the touch. Her hands were so soft, so nurtured. . . He looked up as Mercedes started to speak again, and her words pulled a soft grunt of amusement from his chest. “Perhaps I should make the heels on these boots a bit shorter.”


	2. Lavender

After a long and lovely bath, Dedue made his way up to the king’s office. Now that he’d shaved, he received fewer glares and suspicious glances from the castle’s personnel. Despite all that he’d done for them, he was still untrusted by most people of Faerghus. It didn’t truly bother him, though it was a somewhat sobering thought. _The Empire wasn’t built in a day, but it burned in one._ The travesty that destroyed the reputation of his people happened in one day, and now, nine years later, the Duscur had yet to redeem themselves after their fall from heaven.

Dedue left his meandering thoughts behind himself as he knocked quietly on the door to His Majesty’s office. It was only a moment or two before he heard a soft ‘come in’ from the other side. Setting an armored hand on the doorknob, Dedue pushed it open and listened to the hinges screech. A side effect that came from Dimitri pulling the door off its hinges one too many times. “You sent for me, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.” Dimitri’s voice was filled with concern at the moment. The king’s hair was pulled out of his face in a messy ponytail, and he had his own beard beginning to grow. According to Gilbert, Dimitri looked more and more like King Lambert with every passing day. “I received a letter today from Count Gloucester, asking for troops to escort his new fiance to Gloucester territory.”

“A letter from Count Gloucester?” Dedue eyebrows almost leapt off his face as he rose them. It took the vassal a moment to remember that Lorenz had replaced his father as Count a few months ago. While the old Count was certainly lecherous enough to take a young wife, he couldn’t imagine any woman sane enough to marry him. “I assume this is an arranged marriage?”

Dimitri nodded and stood up, taking a paper off his desk and looking over it once more. He couldn’t hide a look of revulsion. Dimitri abhorred arranged marriages. Just because one was born with a crest didn’t give anyone the right to sell them off! “Yes, between Lorenz and ‘His Rose.’” The king rolled his eye before sighing. “She’s here at the castle, and wants us to bring her to him.”

“I see. Who is she?” Once he knew who the woman was, perhaps he could advise Dimitri on how to best handle the situation. Surely there was a way to compensate Lorenz without having to give over some poor girl to him. Not that Lorenz was awful, just. . . tiring, narrow-minded, and self centered.

His Majesty didn’t answer, just raising his eye to Dedue with an undeniably apologetic expression. Crossing the room, he offered the letter out to his vassal. Dedue cautiously accepted it before reading over the letter, making sure he understood all the details.

_Your Majesty,_

_I have recently had the fine pleasure of getting engaged. Courtesy of one Mr. Kleiman, I will be wed before the month is out. This letter will serve as both an invitation for you, and a request that you bring my rose to Gloucester territory. She is currently working at the castle, though she should know of our engagement around the time you receive this letter. Ah, but it would seem that I’ve almost forgotten! My Rose just so happens to be the lovely lady-_

Oh no.

Oh _no._

The letter fluttered to the ground as Dedue took off running. Composure and dignity were left in the doorway to Dimitri’s office as the vassal leapt down a full set of stairs. Maids, manservants, advisors and commonfolk all parted before him, terrified of this massive man and the speed in which he moved. Forgetting his own strength, Dedue crushed the doorknob in his hold before throwing the door open. He’d fix it later.

Mercedes sat on her bed, back against the headboard and knees pulled up to her face. It seemed that she had been in the middle of getting changed, wearing no more than a white slip at the moment. Her hands covered her face, but it was clear from her sniffles and soft sounds that she was crying. Discarded in front of her was a letter.

Merci’s head snapped up as she heard the door open. Eyes rimmed by a red mask, she swallowed past the lump in her throat as she tried to explain, but one look at the vassal’s distraught expression told her what she needed. Dedue already knew.

Slowly and carefully, Dedue made his way over before sitting on the edge of the bed. Stripping off his cold armor, the man offered his hands out to Mercedes. If she pushed him away, he would respectfully sit back. At the moment, Mercedes was vulnerable both physically and emotionally.

But she didn’t push him away. A fresh wave of tears spilled down her face as she got to her knees, making her way over and falling into Dedue’s chest. Long, thin arms looped around his neck to hug him closer as she trembled. “De-Dedue. . . Dedue-” She sobbed and hiccuped on her words, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

Dedue’s hands gently held her to him, making sure to be soft with this fragile creature. This was Mercedes. Not something to be wed off, and certainly not Lorenz’s ‘Rose.’ Roses weren’t even her favorite flower. But in a way, she was a flower. . . not a rose, but a lavender. “I’ve got you, my lavender.”

Drawing back a little, Mercedes attempted to control her breathing. She even managed a weak smile as she looked up to Dedue. “La-Laven-vender? I li-like that. . .” It was the first nickname he’d given her besides her typical ‘Merci.’ It was nice.

One of Dedue’s hands moved up to cup Mercedes’ face, softly brushing away her tears. “Yes. Lavender.” Leaning in, he pressed a soft and reassuring kiss to her forehead. He had triumphed over the Tragedy, over his wounds, over the war. Surely he could triumph over these papers and ‘deals.’ “We’ll figure this out.”

“How? The-the wedding is set for the end of the mo-month-” Mercedes cut herself off, trying to keep herself from breaking down more. She couldn’t marry Lorenz. Not when she was sitting here with everything she’d been looking for in a husband. She loved Dedue, loved him too much to be wed to someone else. To marry Lorenz. . . Goddess help her, to share a bed with him. . .

An involuntary shudder wracked her frame at that idea. Everything in her was strangled, and her gut was tied up in anxious knots. “De-Dedue-” Her voice was weak with fear and grief as she pushed herself away from the strong vassal.

Dedue let her go and started to move off the bed, but froze at the sound of throwing up. So that was why she wanted space. Turning to face her one more, he gently pulled her short hair back and just waited beside her. Already, his mind was making a list. Mercedes would need a bath, new clothes, new sheets, and clean water.

Waiting until she’d finished puking, Dedue picked Merci up. He tucked her into one arm while the other hand folded up the sheets and put them on the floor. He’d get to washing them later. For now, he carried her to the bathroom that connected to her room.

Mercedes was already a mess, and found a flustered blush adding to the red splotches all over her face as she looked up to Dedue. “Whu-what’re you doing?” While she trusted him, she couldn’t deny a twitch of fear in the base of her gut.

Setting her on the edge of the tub, Dedue began to run the water for her. “I’ll get the soaps for your bath.” One hand set her staff next to her. “I plan on helping you with your bath, but feel free to attack me the moment you feel uncomfortable.” Dedue wanted to ensure that his Lavender felt protected, felt safe.

With that done, the Duscur left her alone for a few minutes to collect the soaps. Mercedes waited until she heard the door click closed to change. Instead of getting straight into the tub, she put on one of her bathing suits and slowly got into the water. It covered a little more of her body than a leotard, and it made her feel infinitely more secure and in control. Between the suit and the staff, she knew nothing would happen to her.

Dedue came back inside just as Mercedes was turning the water off. The man visibly relaxed, put at ease by the bright blue swimsuit. “I was not sure whether you used soaps or oils for bathing.” The vassal explained as he set down several different bottles and boxes. Lumps of soap, bottles of various oils, and a few cleaning cloths to go with it all.

Mercedes blinked before smiling a little. Dedue was rather considerate. “I’ll use the soap to wash my hands off, and the oil for my hair.” Taking up the soap and a cloth, she got them both wet. A soft periwinkle hue was added to the water from the soap, and Mercedes pulled the bandages off her hand and ankle. Her ankle was alright, but there were still bright welts on her hand. Not something she wanted to rub oil into. “Could you. . . Could you wash my hair?”

Dedue looked up from the different bottles of oil before nodding calmly, suppressing a surge of guilt at the sight of those welts. He’d taken care of His Majesty like this a hundred times. Surely this would be no different. Picking up one of the bottles, he poured some of the oil into his hands. It was more watery than he’d expected, not at all like cooking oil. And it had a faint scent about it. . . Peppermint. With the veil she often wore, he’d never had a chance to notice the smell.

His free hand scooped up a handful of water, carefully pouring it over Mercedes’ hair. A few scoops was all it took to ensure her hair was wet, though he took his time doing it. He didn’t want to pour water into her face on accident. Staying true to his earlier vow, he treated his flower tenderly and worked the oil into that short hair. In hindsight, perhaps he got too much oil. Her hair was rather short, after all. It would take a lot of water to rinse this out.

Mercedes kept her head tilted back to keep the oil from getting in her eyes, using the soap to wash off as much as she could of herself. Different bubbles and dollops of oil filled the bathwater and made it a murky periwinkle. Coughing quietly, Mercedes found herself almost choking on the scent of peppermint. She could swear she could taste it. “How much oil did you use?”

“. . . Too much.” Dedue flushed with gentle embarrassment as he continued doing his best to rinse out that oil. While the incident had been entirely accidental, there was a small twinge of satisfaction in his chest. Now, even when she wore her veil, he’d still be able to smell that wonderful scent. At least until she washed her hair with a new oil. “My apologies.”

“No no, it’s alright.” Mercedes smiled kindly, though she knew he most likely couldn’t see it. “I’m grateful for the help.” That much was true. She knew this wasn’t anything of the sort, but it seemed almost akin to pampering. Or at least being taken care of, and it was quite nice. Besides, it was Dedue helping her. That made even the too-much oil a bit endearing in her eyes. “Thank you for the help. I believe I’ll get out soon. Could you get me some new clothes from my dresser? The one directly next to the bed.”

“Of course.” Nodding calmly, Dedue rose up and left, giving Mercedes privacy once more. Get Mercedes a new outfit. . . that would be simple enough, right? The vassal took another cloth to towel off his hands as he left the room. He didn’t want to ruin the varnish on any of Mercedes furniture.

Opening the drawer, he soon found himself at something of a loss. The top drawer was filled with shimmery, easily seen-through clothes and underwear. The middle drawer had several varying sets of black skirts and leggings, and it was the bottom drawer that had button-up shirts and nun-like tops she wore over them. This wasn’t anything like what the men of Faerghus wore.

The vassal took out a skirt and a set of leggings, new underclothes for Mercedes, and one of each kind of shirt. But. . . what was that odd, transparent cloth for? Dedue took one of those strange dresses, just in case, and knocked on the door to the bathroom before opening it. It was just a crack, so he could pass the clothing to her without intruding on her privacy.

Pale hands accepted the clothes, and Dedue closed the door once again as Mercedes got dressed. Sitting down on the bed, he looked out the window and to the sky. As far as he could tell, most of the Duscur gods had forsaken him when he’d not only dedicated his life to a King of Fodlan, but to a priestess of Sothis. Still, the man’s hands clasped together before he allowed himself to bow his head.

_Your Grace Tara, I pray to receive strength from the friendships I’ve forged over the years as Mercedes and I enter these trials. Your Highness Tulae, I pray to find the words and understanding that I will doubtlessly need in order to properly convince Mercedes’ father to release her from this contract. And. . . Dear Sothis, I pray that, no matter what you care for or think of me, you will protect your loyal and faithful child._

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to get the words out, but he heard the bathroom door open and close once more as he raised his head. “Dedue? What were you doing just now?”

“Wishing, my lavender. Now, how might we contact your father?”


End file.
